


Nosocomephobia

by Pathfinder (Coffeeaftermidnight)



Series: Horrors au [4]
Category: Creepypasta - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Eye Trauma, Gen, Hospitals, Minor Character Death, Plot Twists, [well more like eye socket trauma but...], hunter vs hunted
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:46:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23450416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coffeeaftermidnight/pseuds/Pathfinder
Summary: Helping her coworker pick up her husband from surgery wasn't exactly Briar's idea of a fun Friday trip. Not that she could've expected what was to come from that innocent decision to help another human. There's a Horror on the loose and no one has ever escaped him, or lived through him. Briar doesn't think she'll be the first, but she's got just as much to lose as he does.The hospital lights are off but somebody's home. Briar will do whatever it takes to get back home with all her organs intact.Part of the Horrors au, a dystopian au where creepypastas [called Horrors] have killed a third of the population and are at constant, bloody war with humanity. For more information, go to @world-of-horrors-au on Tumblr
Series: Horrors au [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1537990
Comments: 6
Kudos: 31





	1. Chapter 1

“I don't know why hospitals scare me so much,” Tiffany Fleischer admitted about thirty minutes away from their destination. “I've always been scared of them. When I went into labor the first time, I was so scared they had to knock me out and do a c-section, because I couldn't listen to any instructions.” 

Beside her, Briar, the young woman driving, nodded in silent sympathy.

“Even now I can't go into hospitals alone,” the middle aged woman continued. “If it weren't for you I wouldn't be able to pick up my husband today.” Tiffany grumbled and rubbed her nails on the front of her shirt. “That man, he has to wait until the last minute for everything…” 

While her face was calm, inside, Briar sighed. Tiffany was her coworker at the veterinarian clinic they worked at. It was Friday afternoon, the beginning of her week off, and while helping Tiffany wasn't at the top of her list, she didn't have the heart to tell the older woman no. Tiffany was an anxious ball of love and faith, born and raised in the lowlands of South Carolina. She brought homemade brownies at the end of her work week and held the other nurses if a shift hit particularly hard. When it came to coworkers, Tiffany was one Briar wanted alive. Sometimes, she wanted the rest to burn.

With the radio set to the oldies station, chipper 80s pop echoing through the truck, it almost seemed like a normal afternoon. Like there weren't cops walking down the sidewalks, and cameras scanning traffic. Fast food joints were lit up with neon and LEDs, dented stop signs, poles with pictures in black and white reading “Have you seen me?” Briar’s frown deepened. 

“They're looking for someone,” she mumbled.

Tiffany looked at her, quick and alarmed. “What?” 

She smiled. “It's nothing.” 

The older woman stared. “No, really. What is it?” 

Briar gestured to the signs on the poles.

“This town isn't safe anymore,” she said. 

Tiffany bit her lip, the wrinkles darkening with stress. “It can't happen here,” the older woman insisted. “Those beasts can't get in here.” 

The young woman smiled bitterly, and said no more no matter what her companion said.

Our Lady of Salvation Hospital was one of the better ones in the region. The floors were clean, the doctors well trained, and the cafeteria cheap. They had three floors for surgeries, a mental health ward, an always busy ER. No maternity ward, only government funded hospitals had those anymore. But that gave the hospital more room for patients. Plenty of those these days, Briar thought as they entered the elevator to the first surgery floor.

The ride was smooth, but slow. Briar had vague memories of faster elevators, with tile floors and light up buttons, but that would've been when she was under ten, before the security elevators became mandatory. The soft buzz of the scanner hid just a breath under the calming music that filled the hospital halls. The light by the door flashed blue, once.

A bell chimed. Briar pulled her phone from her pocket. The kitten on her animated lock screen yawned, the name on the text message window read “GF", with a winking, raspberry blowing emoji on the end.

**“Where r u?”**

Briar swiped over the holographic keyboard.

**“With Tiffany. I told you I'd be out.”**

Message sent, keyboard sizzling into nothing, Briar glanced at her companion. It was rude to look at photos on your holo screen, but Tiffany was smiling at a probably new photo of her grandkids, the skin crinkling around her eyes. Tiffany was a pretty woman - not elegant, not beautiful, not matronly or anything else they called mothers, but pretty. Her blonde streaked hair was cut short the same way it was when she was a teen, held back on both sides by daisy hair pins. Chubby, dressed in blue gingham, it made Briar think back to the posts Tiffany made on vacation. The older woman had fit right into the countryside, the rural lands of wheat and corn.

Briar glanced at her phone, still in her hand. With a flick she swiped open the front facing camera. Her gray eyes were still red around the edges, and the dark circles under her eyes were fading through. Maybe she'd applied the makeup wrong. Stuffing her phone back in her pocket, Briar pulled the tie out of her hair and fixed her long, black hair back into a proper ponytail. That done, she tugged on the front of her white shirt to smooth it out. There was a mercy in looking presentable, normal. People left you alone.

The light on the wall flashed green. The bell chimed again.

**"Ur taking 2 long. Im bored"**

The doors opened, and Briar breathed in citrus and lavender. Tiffany frowned, wrinkling her nose. Leading the way out of the elevator for her friend, Briar looked at the sign on the wall. They still had the maternity ward arrow up, but the waiting room sign was newer, and the waiting room itself not far away. 

Tiffany gestured towards the chairs while she walked to the nurse's station. Her voice was soft but Briar could still hear the shake of it as she sat in a chair. 

She sent a text back.

**"I'll be home before seven. I'm picking up groceries after this."**

The nurse replied, her voice smooth and easy. Tiffany seemed to relax. Briar heard her say thank you.

A reply: **"bye chips. Ill pay u back"**

Briar rolled her eyes, but somehow smiled. Tiffany gave her an odd look as she sat down a few chairs over but said nothing. Her eyes were soon focused on her phone, a puzzle game displayed on its bright screen.

Time passed. The silent TV above them changed from talking head to talking head, the government news saying a whole lot of nothing as usual. A light down the hall flickered, and the nurse complained to someone in the back about calling maintenance. Doctors walked the tile, a machine beeped, a door creaked open. Coffee and bleach and unheard prayers. Amazing what you noticed when you paid attention. Briar looked at her phone more to blend in than be distracted.

"Mrs. Fleischer?" 

Tiffany gasped, her head snapping up at the nurse's voice, and Briar could see the whites of the older woman's eyes. Jumping to her feet, Tiffany hurried to the front desk. Briar looked back down at her phone and held her breath.

Even from her place across the hall, she could hear the sigh of relief from the older woman. Poking her head out the door, Briar looked at Tiffany. Tiffany gestured her over. She only caught half of the nurse's words as she approached.

"-up on the next floor, just go to the elevator and the nurse up front will lead you to his room."

"Is everything alright?" Briar asked.

"He's fine," and there was genuine relief in Tiffany's voice. "We can take him home now."

Briar smiled. "So we take the elevator now?" She looked at the nurse. "Do the stairs work?"

The nurse shook her head. "Sorry hon, only for maintenance and emergencies."

"Good to know," Briar said with a nod of her head.

Tiffany was all smiles as they approached the elevator. 

"Surgeries these days are so simple," she said. "Even something as complex as spine surgery can be done in a single day, with you going home afterwards. No long hospital stays, no chance of infections from exposure, no awkward examinations…" 

The hair on Briar's arms stood up. She looked behind them. A doctor studied his information on a tablet, the nurse talked to someone behind her desk. Something was wrong.

Tiffany pressed the button to call the elevator. 

"We call it the Good Old Days, but they weren't all good," the older woman said. If Briar had to guess she was still a bit nervous. "We had our problems too back then. But it was a lot simpler to live without," she whispered the word, "the Horrors."

The button stayed dark. Tiffany pressed it again.

Briar eyed the elevator. "Are you sure it was really that simple, or do you just think that because you were younger back then?"

"Oh it definitely was. Less red tape, less security, less of a need for all that stuff. It was nice to be able to leave your home without being scared you'd never come back. Or what might be waiting for you once you did."

Tiffany frowned and pressed the button again. "Is this thing ever coming? I've pressed the button three times now."

Briar shifted. "Maybe we should talk to the nurse. They could be doing maintenance."

"Maintenance? At this hour?" Tiffany frowned. "You stay here. I'll talk to her."

With stiff footsteps and an unexpected firmness, Tiffany turned on her heel and marched back to the desk. Briar worried her bottom lip.

Yeah, she couldn't put her finger on it, but something was definitely wrong. Things were, somehow, quiet. Like the echoes had been stripped from the halls, muted by unseen, unholy hands. Briar reached for her phone in her pocket.

The stairwell door was a turn away from the elevator, next to a row of vending machines. Above it, the lights flickered a pale yellow, dirty glass covering the bulbs. There was a security camera hanging just out of range of the light. Briar tried not to look back at it as she approached.

Soda prices were going down again, she noted as she glanced at one of the vending machines. Or maybe it'd never been changed since before several Horrors attacked those shipping trucks. The resulting executions were messy, cathartic affairs. But if she thought much about those, she'd lose her appetite.

Not that she was hungry to begin with. She just needed an excuse.

As if pondering over her choices, Briar looked at the stairwell door. With casual steps she walked down the row, hands in the pockets of her pants, examining the items in each machine. Candy bars, trail mix, energy pills, vitamin supplements. Soda, soda, soda. At the end of the line, by the door, Briar hesitated. She pulled her wallet from her purse.

As the bottle of cola traveled down on the mechanical arm, Briar looked to the door. Her eyes landed on the handle, followed it to the edge of the door. The crack in the door, where wood met metal, and light shined through. She leaned in to look through.

The lights were on in the stairwell, illuminating yellowed tile and the greenish hue of the walls. No one had cleaned it, but someone had come through. Dust coated the floor, and the thick bootprints of a stranger marched right through it towards the door.

Gut churning, Briar took the soda and crammed it into her purse.

At the elevator, Tiffany whirled around to face her.

"Where were you?" Her wide eyes looked almost solid white in the light. "I thought - thought thought thought-"

Briar pulled the soda half from her purse, attempting a soothing smile.

"I just went to the vending machines. I wanted to grab some caffeine for the ride home. That's all, I promise. I'm okay."

"Caffeine?" Tiffany stared at the soda, the color returning to her face. "Caffeine. Soda. You bought a soda. You always drink so much coffee, I thought…"

The older woman was coming down now, her breathing easing. With a deep breath, Tiffany seemed to settle back down into her shoes, straightening her back.

"You poor thing," she said. "You must be exhausted from all this driving. Are you sure you don't want me to buy you some dinner? I'm sure my husband will be hungry once he wakes up."

Smiling, Briar shook her head. "I'll take a raincheck. It's more important to get him home. Besides, I need to do shopping after we get back to town." She blinked. "Uh, what did the nurse say about the elevator?"

"Oh! Right." Tiffany nodded towards the nurse's station. "She said it does that lately. This building is getting old but the only elevator specialist is tied up for the next three months. There's another elevator in the old maternity ward we can use."

"They still call it that?" Briar said.

"Well, they don't really use it for anything but storage anymore-"

Something slammed down. Tiffany gasped, stumbling back. Briar jerked towards the noise. The cover of the nurse's station was down, and with a click, it locked.

Tiffany trembled, holding herself.

"How rude!" She said. She looked over at Briar. "W-well, if they want their lunch break so bad, let's leave them to it. Come on."

The older woman marched down the hall. Briar looked at the nurse's station, gut twisting, and followed.

The farther away from the surgery ward they got, the more relaxed Tiffany seemed. She unclasped her arms from around her and let them fall to her side, swinging as they walked. She let out a sigh as they passed through the open doors to the old maternity ward.

"It's almost nostalgic, being in here," she said. "All those years of bringing life into the world… I wonder how many babies were born in here."

Somewhere in the distance, dress shoes clicked on the tile. Briar worried her inner lip.

"Those were nice days," Tiffany said, giving an open room a wistful look. "Everything is tests and examinations these days. The first person to hold your baby isn't you, but a state inspector. That's tragic, isn't it?"

Gripping her right arm, Briar looked behind them. No one was there, but it felt like they were being watched. "Yeah, I know what you mean."

"Speaking of babies…" Tiffany shot Briar a mischievous, knowing look. "When are you having yours?"

"Uh." Not this again. Briar looked at the off white walls like they could help her. "I haven't thought about it. I'll probably just donate my eggs again."

"You won't get as much money from donating eggs as you will having a baby," Tiffany said with a smile. "Look at you. You're 25 years old, it's the perfect time to have a baby."

Briar looked into a room they passed. A curtain inside shifted.

"I don't have anyone I want to make one with."

"That's alright," Tiffany said. "There's plenty of men to choose from at the baby facility. You don't even have to have sex. Although…" Her eyebrows waggled. "I bet I can find men who can help you out with that. As beautiful as you are, it won't take long."

Turning her eyes to the floor, Briar tried to tune Tiffany out. DNA donations and population support were mandatory duties for all citizens. So many people had been killed by the Horrors, it was considered a responsibility to help keep the human race's head above 'the dark waters of extinction'. She'd already donated her eggs twice. It helped pay for school.

"I know you're independent, but there's options if you don't want to raise a baby. Plenty of families will adopt. The state will too! They'll send you lovely letters and postcards about your child's progress…" 

Tiffany trailed off. Briar felt her eyes staring.

"Briar? Are you okay?"

She wrapped her arms around herself. The last thing Briar wanted to tell Tiffany was that she was sterile. Nothing good would come from that.

"It's nothing," Briar lied with ease. "I'm nervous about having a baby, is all."

"Oh, I don't blame you. It's hard work." Tiffany sighed, a faint smile forming."It's not as hard as it was years ago, though. They didn't have the painkillers, the numbing agents, that they do now."

Briar looked around. They were alone. There were no shadows in the doorways, no illusions in the covered windows. Actually, now that she thought about it… she hadn't seen anyone since before they entered the old ward.

"Having a baby was so hard back then. You didn't get paid maternity leave like you do now. You had to work all through it, because you couldn't pay the bills otherwise. Now, they pay you to have the babies!" Tiffany laughed. "This is a good time to be a breeder!" Her smile faded. "Not as good a time to be a mother."

Swallowing, Briar said, "Have you seen the elevator?"

"Huh?" Tiffany looked at her, blinking quick. "Oh, right." She laughed. "We were talking so much, I almost forgot where we were!" Tiffany pointed to the sign on the wall. "We probably walked past one already, but that's alright. There should be another one past the nursery."

"Right…" Briar said. The lights flickered overheard. "Don't think I've ever seen one of those in person before. I've only seen those places in old movies."

The wistful look returned to Tiffany's face. This time, though, when she spoke, Briar didn't listen. There was no one behind them. Was it her imagination that caused the soft footsteps she heard? Again her hand moved to her phone in her pocket. Help was only a text away, but what could happen that she wasn't ready for?

They called it a nursery. A big room with babies in see through cribs. Healthy babies, in clean fresh clothing, their eyes closed, their little fists and toes flexing. The nurses held up babies to the family that watched through the window, so they could see the new person they had to love.

The room through the viewing window was dark. There were no cribs, no nurses, no babies. Briar looked through the glass as they passed. The hallway light didn't reach far through the window. All she could see in the dark was a pale piece of paper, crumbled up on the floor.

"Briar?" Tiffany called out, but Briar didn't move. "Are you alright?" Tiffany continued. "You've stopped walking."

Her hands were in front of her, reflected in the glass. They shifted, and the mirror image pulled away from the crumbled paper.

It wasn't paper. It was a hand, without an arm, frozen in the moment it began to curl into a fist.

"Briar!" Tiffany called out. The words formed on Briar's lips.

"We have to-"

It smacked against the other side of the window. Red, dripping, pulsing. Briar heard Tiffany draw in a strangled breath but she couldn't look away from it. From the heart, the bleeding, beating heart, that was slipping down the glass.

"Tiffany," Briar couldn't feel her lips anymore. "Tiffany, run."

The heart pulled away from the glass, muscles stretching, sticking to it. Her mouth was dry, Tiffany was whimpering.

"Oh my God," And Tiffany's voice seemed to come from another room. "Oh my god."

The heart fell. A hand caught it. White surgical gloves already covered in blood. Briar could hear Tiffany but couldn't understand. She followed the hand to the wrist, up the arm, to the chest and the neck and the blue mask worn over the face of the man.

The man. A man. A Horror. A real Horror. Here, in the place they should have been safest.

And everything seemed to go quiet as the man pulled the mask up. His chin was coated in stubble, his lips were smooth, and the black liquid that drained down the front of the mask coated his cheeks. He was smiling, smiling at them, but he didn't really see her even though she was only feet away.

He raised the heart to his lips. His lips parted, and every tooth was white and needle sharp.

The heart pulsed against his lips. 

His teeth sunk in.

The muscle tore like it had been cut.

Tiffany screamed. It echoed. Briar resurfaced, jerked back from the glass. Her hands covered her mouth. 

Eyeless Jack laughed around his bite, and gave her a smile.

Briar turned her back and sprinted after Tiffany. 

The elevators. They were just up ahead. So was Tiffany, pounding on the doors. The button was glowing, the elevator worked. Briar turned to the hall they just came from, and there was nothing.

"Open, open, open!" Tiffany shook, her blunt nails scraping at the natural metal of the door. "For God's sake, open!"

And there was nothing Briar could say. Her dry mouth wouldn't work with her. The realization had stolen her voice. The Horror had been waiting for them. He'd known they were coming down the hall. He'd been watching them.

He was going to kill them.

The light flickered. Tiffany screamed. There was nothing down the hall. The lights above them flickered, flickered. Went out. The light by the elevator door went out. Backup lights hummed to life, and turned Tiffany into a ghost of herself.

Tiffany slumped to the floor. Her eyes were all white as she turned, sightless, towards Briar. 

"We're going to die," Tiffany moaned. Her arms were limp at her sides. "It's going to eat us. We're going to die here."

Air came in cold down Briar's lungs. She stared at Tiffany, standing above her, an awareness of her beating heart filling her body. There was nothing she could do. There was nothing anyone could do. Tiffany was right. They were going to die here.

I didn't do all this to die here, Briar thought. I didn't waste my time bringing Tiffany to this hospital to let her die here.

Foolish, faithful Tiffany. Trusting in her friends, hating the ones she was told. Loving mother, loyal wife, beloved daughter and sister. Comforter of animals as the drugs took their lives. Steady during surgery, friendly at the desk. Did she deserve to die? What had she done to deserve this? Was there some evil hiding behind her back, to lure in the evil that was hunting them?

Somewhere in another room, shoes clicked on the tile.

There were plenty of people that deserved death. Briar couldn't dream of Tiffany being one of them.

She knelt down, took Tiffany's hand.

"Tiffany," Briar said. "The elevators aren't the only way out. I know another exit."

Tiffany looked at her, eyes focusing, the color still gone beneath her makeup.

"I saw it while I was getting my drink," Briar said. "One of the emergency stairs is open. If we don't stop we can make it. Get up."

"Briar," Tiffany mumbled, "we can't get out. No one has ever met that one and lived."

That was true. Briar didn't expect to survive this. But Tiffany would.

"I'm not going to let you give up," Briar said. "I won't let him have his way with you. Get up. We've got to move."

Tiffany's face didn't change but her eyes did. Briar saw it even if no one else could. Hope was a real thing, such a precious commodity that even the government traded in it. With a grunt, the older woman stood. Briar followed her.

Over Tiffany's shoulder, at the other end of the hall, stood Eyeless Jack.

Tiffany didn't need to be told to run. The look on Briar's face was enough. She didn't look back, shoving past Briar as she sprinted the way they came. Briar followed.

"Where you goin' girls?" 

The voice came from behind them, booted steps echoing beneath the words. Briar's heart skipped. He could talk. It was ridiculous to have not seen that coming, of course he could talk, but for some reason she didn't expect it.

"You humans, you're all so pathetic."

His voice was a growl spoken through a grin, the words slick and sticky as blood. 

They turned a corner, Tiffany's shoes squealing against the tile. In the glass of a painting hanging on the wall, Briar saw the glint of light on metal.

"You don't know when to fucking quit!"

Briar gripped Tiffany by the shoulder and pulled her to the side. Light flashed to the left and Tiffany screamed. The scalpel that should've hit Tiffany in the neck embedded in the wall.

"Come on!" The words tore out of Briar's throat, hands pushing Tiffany by the shoulder to keep running. Tiffany wouldn't move. One, two, three, she dislodged from her spot, feet fumbling around the corner. The boots closed in behind them. Briar followed, and her fingers wrapped around the scalpel in the wall. The wall crumbled as she yanked it free.

"Bad move, sweetheart."

A hand gripped her arm, warm blood sinking in through the thin fabric of her shirt. He turned her, and in the dim she saw the metal blade raised, felt the eye socket focused on her neck.

She was faster.

The scalpel in her hand dug into the blue mask. Briar dragged it, cutting through the top to the darkened sockets. The scalpel skipped over the edge and dug in deep through the black fluid weeping from the hole where an eye should be. She felt the tip scrape against bone.

Eyeless Jack dropped his scalpel, screaming from behind the mask. Briar dropped the scalpel. She heard it clatter to the tile as she fled after Tiffany.

"Bitch!" He shouted after her. "You fucking bitch, you- how did you-"

Briar kept running until the Horror's ranting faded, until her feet passed the threshold of the old maternity ward. She looked over her shoulder, but there was nothing. The halls behind her were empty.

Someone whimpered. Briar turned.

"Tiffany." 

The older woman pressed against the glass wall by the waiting room, arms wrapped tight around her. She looked at Briar and an image flashed in Briar's mind, a photo of a deer Tiffany took on her vacation. Deer eyes, standing in the black, staring back, an instant before being shot by her husband's rifle. Violence and life held hands in their world, and every picture Tiffany took on that trip cropped out the armed men that stood by to protect them.

Prey could never understand the mind of a predator. With that thought, Briar wrapped her arms tight around Tiffany's body. The hug lasted for less than a moment before Briar pulled away.

"You need to find the vending machines, the stairs are right next to it. I'm going to set off the alarm in the nurse's station and get help."

Tiffany's lips moved, pursing and opening and closing. She trembled, her eyes looking over Briar's shoulder. Briar didn't look back.

"You've got to hurry," Briar said, and that did the trick. Tiffany looked at her face, her eyes flooding with tears, and then fled towards the elevator doors, fading into the dim lights above their heads. In the distance, something clicked like footsteps, three times.

You've got to hurry. That didn't just apply to Tiffany. Briar looked back at the hallway she'd come from, and saw nothing but dark. If she had any hope of escaping this herself, she needed to get in the nurse's station and act fast. Otherwise she'd be another statistic.

Through the door to the nurse's station was a doctor, one hand stretched towards the door Briar hesitated at. A woman, her blunt nails were the same color as the blood that collected in her empty chest cavity. Cut open cadaver style, her ribs were broken, her insides hollowed like a drum. Maybe, she'd been dead before he cut her open.

Briar inched inside, closing the door behind her. There was no way to hide she'd gone through, the blood would show her footprints. If she could get out fast enough it wouldn't be a problem. She didn't look at the body as she passed it. In her mind the corpse watched her with foggy eyes filled with hate.

Two more corpses in the station itself, easy to see with the door ripped off the hinges. The nurse they'd spoken to slumped against a filing cabinet, eye sockets empty, jaw broken, tongue gone, shredded shirt exposing her hollow. A male nurse slumped in a chair, eyes rolled back. Two yellowed lungs sat in his lap. On the wall behind them was a calendar, covered with happy spring flowers. Next week was Jenny's birthday.

At least she didn't have to move the bodies to get to the desk console. The code was the same, one thing they didn't change from when she was taught in school. Briar pushed a few pens and a cracked tablet out of her way, reaching for the emergency node. She almost ripped the cover off its hinges, setting it to the side by the paper files. The code, the code, 494837… 

She stopped. The lights were dead. Her heart sunk. 

"Don't tell me," she mumbled, and ducked her head under the desk. Below hung a tangle of severed wires, a human finger poking from the open hole in the wood. Briar shook her head. "You son of a bitch." He'd thought of everything.

A door opened. Her breath caught.

"Sweetheart, you in here?" 

Her blood raced. Briar straightened, head pounding.

"I smell you. You're close."

And she was. But so was the closet. He was fast but she was faster, and she didn't need to go far to slip her way inside.

Through the door frame, he stalked into the room. There was no way he wouldn't find her. She guessed he knew where she was before he even entered. Eyeless Jack rolled his head on his neck, raised his arms and locked his bloody fingers, stretching catlike in the middle of the carnage. He was toying with her. Briar closed her eyes. There were worse ways to go.

"What the hell?"

His voice was coated with shock. Briar almost opened her eyes.

"What the fuck? Get the hell out of my way!"

There was someone else in the room. Briar peaked her eyes open. Through the crack in the door, she saw it. Him. Someone in a suit. A Horror? But they were so tall. No human could be that big, get in so silently. She didn't even hear-

"Don't talk to me about him," Eyeless Jack snapped. "Don't you dare even speak his name after all you've done. You could've stopped this, you could've stopped all of this, but you didn't and now it's my job to fix this piece of shit world. Do you think you can just come to me and-"

There were still no words coming from the one blocking the Horror's way, but in a moment, she heard an angry, snarling breath.

"Fine. Fine. I'll walk away. You want her, you- you-"

Something smashed to the ground.

"Why are you even protecting her?!" Eyeless Jack shouted. 

There was no answer. Not that she could hear. But there was a moment, then another, before she heard it. The footsteps walking away from her hiding place, through the blood. A door opened, but didn't close.

She inhaled.

The closet door swung open, and she was alone. The tall figure was gone, and so was Eyeless Jack.

Briar shuddered. What the hell? What… the hell…

Tiffany screamed.

Things blurred. Briar snatched up a broken piece of door. Blood splashed on her legs as she flung her way out into the main hall. She slipped on the tile. Got back up. Ran, ran harder, ran faster. He was nothing compared to her.

Turn the corner. Tiffany on the floor, weeping, Eyeless Jack approaching. Briar yelling, hearing nothing. Tiffany not moving, crying. Jack looking up at Briar, meeting her eyes before the broken wood smashed against his unprotected neck.

The wood broke. His body hit the wall, red blood splashed on his front.

Grabbing Tiffany, Briar tried to haul her up.

"Come on!" The words were an echo in her head. "Come on, come on!"

Her fingers dug in to Tiffany's sagging flesh. Tiffany looked into her face. Briar looked over her shoulder. The vending machines were right there. They were so close.

"Come on!"

This time Tiffany got up. Briar gripped her hand, pushed her forward.

"Go! Go! The door is open!"

Tiffany looked to the side, saw something Briar refused to look at. She ran. She ran and Briar followed.

"Go!" Briar kept shouting. "Go, go!"

Tiffany turned the corner. The door was still unlocked. They were so close.

"Keep going!" Briar shouted.

Tiffany opened the door.

"Go! Go!"

Tiffany crossed into the stairwell. Briar focused on the back of her shirt.

"Go-!"

Their bodies met, his slamming into hers. The impact knocked her to the floor. Her head slammed on the tile. Briar caught his hand as he brought the knife down.

A scream, an animal sound, left her. Her free hand launched out, to his face, under his mask, to tear and rip and slip and bleed wherever she could reach. He snarled and twisted the arm with the scalpel. His free hand curled into a fist, met her face, a glancing blow she didn't feel. Her fingers found his socket and she dug in, digging her fingers into soft flesh. A curse left him and she felt it against her skin, hot breath, hot lips. The scalpel clattered to the tile. The mask was dislodged. His empty fingers curled around hers. Through narrowed eyes she saw the glint of the faded light on his teeth. He lunged.

His teeth sunk into her flesh, not her throat but below, by her shoulder, through her clothes. She gasped, body freezing, eyes going wide. Through the instinctive haze she thought, am I really going to die like this?

Eyeless Jack didn't move. His tongue pressed against her skin where the blood leaked out from his teeth. One hand that somehow found her waist clenched, then released. He pulled away, and she felt every tooth pull free from her skin. The Horror stood up and Briar pushed herself into a sitting position, one hand holding the fresh wound.

Without looking at her, he picked up his tumbled mask. Eyeless Jack turned towards the stairwell door and for a brief, happy moment, she thought he would leave. No, he closed the door. Pulled keys from his pocket. With the lock of the door, her heart dropped.

He hesitated, looking over his shoulder at her. Briar gripped the wound tighter. Devils were said to be beautiful, and he wasn't really an exception, was he? There was something lingering on his face, in his expression, something he wanted to say. What was it?

"You have five minutes," he said. Tucked the keys into his pocket. "If you can survive until the agents show up, I'll let you live. For good."

She stared. No one had ever met this one and lived. She was probably not going to be the first. Maybe he already knew what she did.

Ignoring the pain in her shoulder, Briar got to her feet and ran. Ran away from the door, the demon, deeper into the hospital. She'd come too far to die like this. Somehow, someway, she'd get out of this alive.


	2. Chapter 2

Five minutes. 

Not a lot of time to hide from a Horror. Even less time to figure out how to fight back. But god help her, she'd figure this out somehow.

Every step of her boots on the tile felt like a gunshot ricocheting up her body. The building was dark and the safety screens on the windows were down, the plain steel trapping what it was supposed to protect. Backup lights in blue and green lit the halls, lit up trails of dark thick liquid on the sides of the walls. Her boots squeaked, left tracks in the blood. A man in a plaid shirt laid face down in a puddle. She swerved around him, and didn't look back.

Five minutes five minutes five minutes. Long enough to heat up ramen in the microwave like she did for years in college. Long enough for the wind to change and rain to fall just as you were putting your sneakers on for a run. Long enough for a light to change from green to yellow to red to green and back and back. Long enough, long enough, but not long enough.

Panic wouldn't get her anywhere. Her feet would. 

He'd opened all the doors, no one could escape him. A nurse propped up against a hallway wall with her bloody hands in her lap, a hole in her torso, crushed phone beside her. Someone's leg half in a doorway. These weren't bodies fallen where they lay. He had posed them, like an artist, setting the bodies up to be found, and not by her. There was a message he was sending here and as clear as it was, there were probably a thousand interpretations and maybe they were all wrong.

Maybe she was going about this all wrong.

She jumped a long desk, felt the cold wood, the splash of blood through her jeans. The poor receptionist lying like a corpse in a coffin, hands crossed over her emptiness, the silver band on her finger shining in the dark. Briar shivered. Almost a blessing her eyes were gone. It might've broken Briar to see whatever emotions were frozen in the woman's eyes at death, like pinned bugs trapped lifelike behind glass.

Behind the desk was a door, and behind the door was a maintenance hall. Through an open entryway, two janitors sat at a table, bloody hands folded. Briar tore her eyes away, to down the hall. There was only one door at the end of the hall, the plaque on it obscured by darkness. She shook her head. Couldn't go down that way, if he found her down there-

Her phone rang out.

The blood rushed from her face and neck, freezing in her heart. It was a quick sound, three notes indicating a text message, but it was nothing but a siren in the silence.

She darted down the hall towards the final room. Without looking inside, she entered, and closed the door. The near silent click of the lock echoed in her ears.

Stepping away from the door, Briar took a deep breath. Get it together. She turned around, and the first thing her eyes landed on was another door. Tears flooded her eyes. No rest for the wicked. Briar bolted to that door, and closed and locked it too.

But hang on, why did these doors have locks? Heart hammering, she looked at where she was. Black tv screens were settled against the far wall. Three computers lined the desk beneath them. A mug on the desk, a lanyard beside it, a severed hand clutching a mouse. Briar swallowed. Security office, maybe. Would explain the two doors. The other one probably led into the main halls…

She wouldn't be safe here for long.

Her phone rang. Briar tensed. That wasn't a text she was getting. The cheery melody meant her mentor was calling.

Briar huddled in the farthest corner away from the doors, beside the desk. Her fingers shook as she reached for her phone.

The name on the screen read GF. The voice that came was entirely masculine.

"I'm guessing it's not traffic holding you up, is it?" He said. She took a deep, desperate breath.

“No,” Briar said. “It’s not.”

“Are you in trouble?” And the edge of concern was sharp in his voice. “Do I need to come get you?”

“Don’t.” He couldn’t get here in time. She couldn’t put him in that kind of danger. “It’s not - it’s not that simple.”

“... Nothing is?” He didn’t understand. Briar looked to the computers. Were they bugged? Would they play back the tapes, and hear? 

“Okay, since I don’t hear anything behind you, I’m guessing you’re not still at the hospital-”

“I am,” she said. Briar stared at the distant doorknob, waiting for it to turn with a sick stomach.

“You are?” She could see his eyebrows raising at the tone of his voice. “But - wait.” Something scraped on the other end. “Wait,” he said, softer, colder. “The power is off, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” she breathed. Her phone could crack from her grip if she wasn’t careful.

“The power is off, but you’re not alone,” he said, as if picturing the situation in his head. “He’s harvesting the floor, and you’ve gotten caught in the middle. Is that right? Is that him? That old bastard Eyeless Jack?”

She could cry, with relief, with stress. “Yes, that’s him.”

“Does he know you’re here?”

“He gave me five minutes to hide,” she said, and pressed her back harder against the wall.

“Seriously? Does he know? No - don’t answer that.” Steps on the other end, he was pacing back and forth. “He never would’ve done that if he’d known we were connected. I don’t think he’s ever done this with anyone before.”

Something like a laugh, strained, high-pitched, left her. “I must’ve tasted good.”

“Oh, Briar,” he spoke like his heart was breaking. “He’s serious. But not so serious that he isn’t playing. Five minutes wouldn’t have saved you if he didn’t want to mess around. But why…?”

His voice trailed off. Briar stared at the door. 

"Briar, listen to me," he said. "I've seen him play this game before. What you've seen him do, that's all business. But if he's taken an interest in you, then that means he expects to have fun with you. He won't kill you quick. I've seen him take days playing with his food. Picking off family members, leaving messages with spoiled organs, ruining their lives until they don't want to live anymore. And when you think it can't get any worse…"

He trailed off. "Probably don't need to finish that," he said. 

Her teeth tugged at her bottom lip. “Probably not,” she said.

"You have to survive," he said. "You have to do whatever it takes to get out of that building alive, do you hear me? Do whatever it takes."

"Whatever it takes," she whispered, taking in a deep breath.

"Whatever it takes?" The questioning voice came from the door on the other side of the room, the one she hadn't been watching. Briar's blood ran cold.

"Who are you talking to?" Eyeless Jack asked.

"Briar?" Her mentor called her name but she couldn't answer him. Her lips were frozen, throat sealing up. "Briar, what's going on?"

"It's been five minutes," Eyeless Jack said. "I hope you're not planning on making me come get you."

She pushed herself to her feet, her limbs responsive despite the chills that shot through her frame. Not looking away from the far door, she took one step towards the hallway door, then another.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Eyeless Jack said.

Her hand, still holding the phone, lowered. She heard her mentor take a deep breath.

"See you soon, Briar," her mentor said, and hung up.

Briar ran for the door.

"Stupid bitch!" Eyeless Jack snarled.

Her fingers scraped against the lock, twisting it open. The door opened outward under her pressure. Wood shattered behind her, and Briar slammed the door behind her as she fled.

"Get the hell back here!" Eyeless Jack's muffled shout didn't make her slow down. She sprinted through the blood puddles on the floor and didn't look back.

Wood broke, the door she'd just slammed shut crushing under the Horror's hands. A cold drop of sweat trickled down the back of her neck. There was no way she could outrun him. 

His footsteps echoed through the hall, and Briar tried to swallow. She couldn't outrun him. She had to out-think him.

Air whistled behind her. She ducked, skidding on the black speckled tile. Something hit the wall where her head had been, hitting hard enough to crack. Doorknob, Briar thought, not looking back. He must've aimed it at her head. He was right behind her. He was so close behind her.

"You're not getting away!" 

Fucking watch me, Briar thought. She grit her teeth. It couldn't end this way.

"End of the line, baby."

End of the line? Briar blinked. What was he- 

The hallway was a dead end. Up ahead, a single, half-opened door, and a wheelchair. Shit. If there had been a turn, she must've missed it. Damn it, damn it, what could she do? She had to survive.

Her legs carried her past the wheelchair. Briar wrapped her fingers around the cold plastic of the handles. In one motion, she gripped it, spinning around in place, and threw it at the Horror. She watched it roll forward towards Eyeless Jack. He didn't slow down. One foot planted itself on the seat, and he jumped into the air.

She shouldn't have watched.

Eyeless Jack slammed into her. The air left her lungs and her feet left the ground. Briar felt the door opening as she fell backwards with Eyeless Jack on top of her. She hit the floor, stars dancing over her vision.

He wrapped his hands around her throat.

Not enough air in her lungs to scream. Briar swung a fist at his head. He didn't react. She sucked in a breath and the fingers tightened. Black tears dripped from behind the mask, splashing onto her face. Still she fought, struggling under the mass of his body. The fingers tightened, tightened. Opening her mouth to scream in defiance, nothing came out. This couldn't be the end, it couldn't, she was going to make her mentor proud, she couldn't die here. She couldn't.

The fingers tightened, tightened.

Relaxed.

Briar gasped in air. Her vision swum.

"Too soon," Eyeless Jack mumbled. His body shifted, hands pulling away from her throat. He pushed himself up off her. Laying on the floor, Briar breathed, listening to the footsteps as they faded down the hall. 

She breathed. She breathed. But only by his mercy.

With a grunt, Briar rolled over and pushed herself to her hands and knees. Her head pounded, and she closed her eyes.

"He was playing with me," she mumbled aloud. 

"Playing with his food," a male voice said. "You'd think he had better manners than that."

Her eyes opened. Briar looked up from the speckled tile, vision swaying.

It was an old office she'd landed in. Dusty filing cabinets lined the wall beside her. Two plastic bags filled with paper, an old, broken wooden desk in the center of the room. Her vision stabilized, looking through the blue tinted darkness, allowing her to see the man sitting behind the old desk. He tilted his head at her, and the shadows stood strange on his face. Of course they did, she realized a moment later. He didn't have a face at all.

"But I suppose I shouldn't ask too much from a Horror," the faceless man said. "The prodigal children of fear and grief... Perhaps they don't know any better."

Briar pushed herself onto her feet. She swayed, catching herself on one of the filing cabinets. Blood and dust brushed against her tongue as she inhaled.

"You're not a Horror," she said. The man tilted his empty head. "You're not a Beast either," she said. 

There was no mouth on his face to smile, but the shadows seemed to change on the paper white skin, as if he was.

"The word your kind has for me is the last one that would come to your mind," he said. "I am a beast, yes, a horror beyond human knowledge, but I am far, far from merely being just that. I know who you are, Briar Gillespie, and I know who you were, and I know all that you have done. But you needn't be afraid of me. I am not your enemy." His head tilted the other way. "Not yet."

Her legs tensed, and she swallowed. "I don't believe you," she said. "No one knows everything about me except for me."

An unmistakable chuckle came from the pale man.

"I read you so well. It is one of my gifts. I look at you and I see the past that has shaped you, the love you sought and the people who keep you up at night." He leaned back in the chair, hands folding together. "I look at you and I understand why you never took in another cat after losing Captain."

She stepped back hard, side bumping into a cabinet. A hand slapped over her open mouth. How, how - no.

"We are not having this conversation," Briar said, straightened, closing her eyes and shaking her head. "I will not be psychoanalyzed by a man without a face."

"Of course," he said, and she opened her eyes again. "I shouldn't take up so much of your time anyway. You have such little of it left."

He wasn't wrong, she thought.

"Help me," Briar said. "If you are so powerful, help me survive."

"You underestimate your own strength," he said. "Do you really need my help?"

She didn't answer, staring at the being with steel eyes. He sighed.

"I can only do so much," he said. "There are limits to my interferences. But I will tell you this: the deal you've been given is more unfair than you realize."

Briar scowled. "I'm a human versus a demonic maniac that's killed hundreds of people. What is there I don't know?"

Another chuckle burst from the man, and he smoothed a white hand over the emptiness where his mouth should be.

"That wasn't funny, I apologize," he said. "But think, Briar." He leaned forward in his seat. "You've lived in this world all your life. What do you know about Horror attacks like this?"

What did she know? She knew a lot. The ever changing guides and drills they did in school, the arguments on the television and radio, the cheerful propaganda cartoons with their special lessons. But he was right, there was something she was missing, now that she thought about it. Something was off…

Her stomach dropped.

"They follow the pattern of the Horror that's been reported," she said. He nodded. "And no one has ever survived Eyeless Jack." 

Briar exhaled.

"They're not going to come rescue me. They think I'm already dead."

"An unfortunate truth," the faceless man said. "They won't send their agents in search of a corpse, not when there are so many more for the coroners to collect."

"They won't come in until they see him leave," she said, more to herself than him. "And he's not going to leave until I'm dead."

She should've known. She should've known better than to have hope…

"Damn it!" Briar spun, kicking out. Her foot met the metal of the filing cabinet beside her. The soft, rusted metal gave way, denting inward. She yelped, anger vanishing as the cabinet leaned towards her. As she moved the falling cabinet to face the wall instead of crashing to the ground, the faceless man shook his head.

"Terrible material, already rusted, to the point even humans can do damage to it without thinking. There's a metaphor in that."

"Leave the metaphors for the English majors," she said, wiping the dust on her hands on her clothes. She looked at him again, closer, and he looked back.

A faceless man in a dark suit, a human woman in bloodstained clothes. They looked at each other, until Briar blinked and looked away.

"Who are you?" She said. "Your name. I know you have one."

"Do you now?" He said, his tone amused. "I have many, in truth, all given to me by humans. These days, I've chosen to take on one of the monikers you have given me. I feel it's appropriate for how I am viewed. You may call me the Slenderman. I am pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Pleasure's mine," Briar said, though there was little pleasure or comfort in her tone. "You're probably not gonna stop him again if he barges in here, will you?"

"I don't think I need to," the Slenderman said. "You are clearly strong enough on your own. Though may I suggest a weapon? A more permanent one than a shattered piece of wood."

Of course he'd seen that too. She grimaced.

"Good… good advice," she said. Briar moved to turn, then looked back. "Are you gonna try and kill me yourself once I finish this off?"

"I give you my word," he said. "I will do you no harm."

She swallowed. 

"Right, right…"

Briar turned towards the door to the hallway. Out there, Eyeless Jack waited, and here couldn't be much safer. She couldn't just wait for death to come, she had to meet it up front and kick it in the ass.

"And Briar?"

Slenderman spoke again. She hesitated.

"When you escape, tell your mentor I said hello."

"Wh-" Briar looked back. The chair the entity once sat in was empty. All that remained was where the dust had moved in his presence. She turned back to the hall.

"You really got me into something deep, didn't you?" She said to no one. Briar adjusted her purse. "Got a lot of explaining to do when I survive."

Never a matter of if, like he'd told her once. It was always a matter of when.

There was no sense in running yet. Eyeless Jack was gone, for now, she hoped. She needed to save her energy, her strength, for when he came back. Briar walked back down the way she came, past the wheelchair and the bloody footprints on the floor. Past the posters of smiling people that encouraged fertility services. The blue light overhead changed the silent halls into an alien world, a science fiction movie gone horribly wrong. And the smell of blood… she was already used to it. 

Briar looked away from the walls and their flower photos and the happy faces of dead people. Like she'd thought, there was an intersection, a cross in the hallways she must've missed in her panic. She hesitated. There was no map nearby to tell her where to go. But even if there were, what was she going to do?

No one was coming to help her, she thought. The rest of the hospital was likely already evacuated. She was on the fourth floor, the elevators wouldn't work, the doors to the stairs were all locked, and the Horror had the keys. Probably the keys to the roof, too. The window shields would only give to bullets, not fragile human fingers. Escape was impossible, unless she could tell them she was still alive.

… How much battery did her phone have left?

Briar fished her phone out. Looking at the screen hurt like looking into the sun, her eyes watering. She squeezed her eyes shut and blinked the pain away. Squinting, Briar looked at the holographic alert that has replaced her home screen. Looked like they already knew there was a Horror here, and sent out a warning to anyone in the area to arm up and lock down.

"Wish I could," she mumbled, and swiped the alert away.

Her phone was at 72%. Good enough. No texts, no calls since the last one with her mentor. Briar opened her emergency contacts.

She'd never had to place a report before. As a kid she once sat next to a teacher and watched her call for help. It'd been so quiet, sitting in that empty room behind the teacher's desk, waiting, waiting. That was the only direct brush with Horrors she'd had growing up, but they were never far from her mind. She'd never read anything about how to place one of these herself, but it was better than nothing, right?

Briar pressed the top number on the list and put the phone to her ear.

It rang.

It rang.

The voice wasn't human.

"You've reached the Horrors Emergency Hotline." A machine, in a soft but firm female tone, spoke. "For your safety, please move to an enclosed area before continuing with this call." The machine repeated the words in Spanish. Briar didn't move.

"To report a sighting, press one," the machine said. Briar chewed her inner lip. "To report an attack in your area, press two. To report a body, press three."

She swallowed. Where was the option to talk to a person? 

"If no option is chosen, this call will end. To report a sighting-"

She pressed two.

"Remain calm," the voice said. "Help will arrive. Our agents will soon be on the way to help. Please listen closely."

Briar looked down the hall both ways, but saw nothing.

"To enter your location electronically, press one. To enter your location manually, press two."

She pressed one.

"Please hold. This may take up to thirty seconds to locate your device."

Thirty seconds, really? She wrapped her free arm around herself.

One moment, two moments, three, something beeped.

"We are sorry, your phone cannot be traced. It is possible the internal device has been damaged."

She swore in her head. Her phone didn't have a pre-installed tracker anymore. How could she have forgotten about that?

"To insert your location manually, press one. To try again, press-"

Briar pressed one.

"Please insert the first five digits of your location."

"Fuck," Briar breathed. What were they? She wrote it down and put it in her purse…

"This call will end if no response is given in two minutes," the machine said.

"I know, I know," she mumbled, rustling through her purse. Her fingers wrapped around the only piece of paper and she yanked it out.

"This call will end if no response is given in one minute," the machine said.

"Shh," she said, unfolding the paper. Yes, this was the one. Briar put in the digits.

"One moment," the machine said. She exhaled, waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Something beeped on the other end.

"A Horror attack has already been reported in your location. The identities of the attackers are," the voice switched to a male, deep and mechanical. "Known." The voice switched back. "There is-" the voice switched, "one" and back, "Horror reported. The name of the Horror is," and this time the voice was male, human, "Eyeless Jack."

"I know," she whispered. 

"Evacuation orders have been given. Sheltering in place is not recommended. Please go outside as quickly and orderly as possible to the designated area. Our agents will be there in-" 

"Soon," the male, human voice said.

"Hours," the machine said.

"Seriously?" Briar gaped. This was a sick joke, wasn't it? Had she called the wrong number?

"If you have already evacuated, press one," the machine said. "If you need to report damage to the structure of the building, press two. If you are unable to evacuate, press three."

"Come on," Briar whispered, pressing the number. "Please."

There was a pause, a long, long delay. She waited, holding her breath.

Music, gentle and patriotic, faded in. The voice that came was human, another male.

"In times of crisis, it takes all the courage we have to stand firm against our enemies." It was some politician speaking, probably the governor. "We all must do our part for the survival of the human species, and if fate and God have determined our need to make the ultimate sacrifice, we should do it with pride."

Her legs began to shake.

"Unfortunately it is unlikely for our agents to make it to you in time," the man said. "But do not lose your human spirit. They can take our lives but they cannot take our courage, our faith, and our love for our families, friends, and country. The sacrifice of yourself and those with you is not in vain. We will remember the names of every person taken, and we will ensure that justice is done, and your memories preserved. You don't need to worry about your spouse, children, parents, or other relatives. They will be taken care of when you are gone."

Her stomach curled. "You bastards," she whispered.

"Do not lose hope in these darkest hours. Our enemies, though demonic and eternal they may seem, can die just like we can. Do not give in to their evil, or their madness. If you can fight, fight. If you cannot fight, pray. Do not show them your fear, your grief, your pain. Show them your courage, your defiance against their evil, and prove to them that nothing is stronger than the human will. And don't forget: you will always be remembered."

She stood there, almost speechless, listening to the call. The music swelled, and then faded to silence.

"What the fuck," Briar hissed.

The machine voice said, "To replay this goodbye message, press one. If no further action is needed, please hang up."

She didn't move.

"Goodbye," the machine said. 

The call ended.

Briar lowered the phone from her ear. Her hands shook, the phone rattling in her grasp. She took a breath, and it was unsteady in her nose, in her lungs. She was shaking, her whole body was shaking. Not with fear. With rage.

With a shout, she threw her phone down the hall. 

"Bastards!" 

The mistake hit her the second her phone left her fingers. It flew into the darkness, where she could only watch as her last contact with the rest of the world vanished into the blue-black.

A hand caught it. Fingers, black claws poking free from latex gloves, wrapped around her phone.

Briar backed up.

He stepped from the shadows, mask tilted on his face. Eyeless Jack looked at her, and smiled.

"Hey."


End file.
